Judah Ben Hur: Release

Esther had heard Him first

Through those days when

I recovered from

The race, the blood,

The dust, adrenaline and

Massala’s riddled corpse.

The hillside Teacher

With strange words of peace

And new beginnings.

But none of such for me.

Rome was a cancer

In our land

Could I be a surgeon?

A patriot Jew?

And then they took Him

Bogus claims of sedition

And heresy.

A Cross awaiting.

Commotion drew me

To those crowded streets,

The jeering,

That hill…

The intense shaking,

The darkness at mid-day.

The butchering.

“Father, forgive them.”

(That face I recognized!

A cool drink and a smile

On a slave’s march.)

And with His kingly demise

I felt the sword leave my hand.


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